Grenade
by ViolinFreak
Summary: Brittany's relationship with Santana. One-shot songfic to Bruno Mars' Grenade. Slight AU.


So, I know I haven't written anything in a while, but then I heard Grenade and this just popped into my head and I had to write it! I am working on some other stuff as well, but this got done first.

**Warning**: Spoilers for the first half of Season 2 (and a spoiler for the 2nd half)

Also, this is extremely angst-y/trigger-y. And there's underage drinking. You have been warned.

I originally wrote this in 2nd person before I read about the "No 2nd person" rule, so I apologize for any mistakes :/

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Glee, or Grenade, or Bruno Mars. If I owned Bruno Mars, I wouldn't ever write any angst ever. I would be an extremely happy person ;)

* * *

_Easy come, easy go  
That's just how you live, oh  
Take, take, take it all,  
But you never give_

Being in love with Santana Lopez is never easy. It's even harder when you're her best friend, her sister, the one person she comes to when everything else goes wrong. To Brittany, it seems like she has no choice; Santana's had her hooked from the start. Of course, their lives were simpler when they met back in kindergarten. Now, Santana basically fucks anything with a pulse, as long as they have a condom and she'll gain something from it. Especially Brittany – but only when it's convenient, or as a last resort. And she smiles through the pain every time Santana leaves, taking yet another piece of her shattered heart with her. Brittany's just glad Santana wants her for anything at all. It's not like she'll ever give her what she wants from her… she's not even sure if she's capable of loving her that much.

_Shoulda known you was trouble from the first kiss,  
Had your eyes wide open,  
Why were they open?_

"We really should practice, B," she said, eyes full of mischief. "How will we ever know what to do otherwise?"

"But not everyone practices with their best friend. Like Monkey Hands-"

"Man-hands, Brittany."

"Oh. Well, _Man-hands_ doesn't have any friends, right?"

"And why is that, might I ask?"

"Because-to-be-friends-with-RuPaul-is-to-risk-ostriches-"

"Ostracism."

"Ostrachesisms?"

"…close enough. Continue."

"Um… from-polite-society-as-this-is-a-clear-sign-of-lunarcy-"

"Lunacy."

"And-admittance-to-a-metal-"

"Mental."

"Hospital-will-be-necessary." She desperately searched her face for any sign of approval, any small indication that she had made her as happy as Santana always made her. Santana checked the clock.

"Two seconds off your last time. Nice work. Anyways, we should practice because we're especially close best friends," she locked her pinky with Brittany's, "and best friends should help each other prepare for the future. Right?"

"Well… yeah, I guess. So we know what to do when it counts?"

She nodded, "Yep. We should try and figure it out now."

But she knew exactly what she was doing. She kept her eyes locked on Brittany's while she slid her hand all the way up Brittany's arm, curving and settling at the base of her neck. She slid even closer to her on the bed, until she was swimming in those gorgeous brown eyes. Then she felt Santana's lips ever-so-carefully brush against hers, and at the age of 11, Santana Lopez gave Brittany Pierce her very first kiss.

_Gave you all I had  
And you tossed it in the trash  
You tossed it in the trash, you did  
To give me all your love is all I ever asked,  
Cause what you don't understand is_

_I never wanted this_, she thinks, as he awkwardly places his glasses on her bedside table. And she didn't. "Pity Fuck a Cripple" was not on her to-do list for the week. But she's here and he's on the football team now, so she might as well get it over with. She takes control, straddling him, announcing, "Before our duet… we're going to do it." _I'll have to tell San that one later_, she notes before remembering that telling Santana anything is not an option. That if it were, she wouldn't be letting him fumble with her bra clasp and struggling not to roll her eyes. But she made her choice; she put herself on the line yet again and Santana walked away. _Sex isn't dating, sex isn't dating, sex isn't dating… _her old mantra becomes a blur of denial as his hands venture lower, and soon her skirt is on the floor below her Charlie St. Cloud poster. _Who's just a warm body now, huh? Who's just a warm body now…_

_I'd catch a grenade for ya  
Throw my hand on a blade for ya  
I'd jump in front of a train for ya  
You know I'd do anything for ya_

Most of her life has not been hers, exactly. It was Santana who signed them both up for cheerleading… well, it was Santana who convinced her parents to sign them both up for cheerleading, back when her parents cared how she spent her free time. Santana convinced her to pull a dumb blonde act, Santana told her that she could stand to lose a few pounds before Cheerios auditions and showed her how to make her parents believe that she was still eating, Santana taught her to "never say no" – but she was also the only person who understood her. She was the only person who made her feel important. She was the only person who could make her smile, no matter what. She trusts her more than she trusts herself.

_Oh, oh  
I would go through all this pain,  
Take a bullet straight through my brain,  
Yes, I would die for ya baby,  
But you won't do the same  
_

She draws in a ragged breath, curls into herself, and fights the tears. She doesn't want her parents to walk in on her crying herself to sleep for what has to be the hundredth time. _Why can't I be enough for her?_, she screams into the silence of her mind. She feels every time _she_'s left her slice into her body, a knife stabbing deep for every "Sex isn't dating," for every innocent kiss _she_ gave Puck in the hallways while she pretended not to care, for every time _she_ convinced her to go to bed with her because _she_ was out of options… she struggles to inhale again. _If my best friend can't love me, who will?_ Her night spirals into darkness, and the pain just grows worse.

_Black, black, black and blue beat me till I'm numb  
Tell the devil I said "Hey" when you get back to where you're from  
Mad woman, bad woman,  
That's just what you are, yeah,  
You'll smile in my face then rip the breaks out my car_

She considers herself somewhat of an expert. Not in any academic field, but in cosmetics? She's a certified genius. Santana tends to come to her any time she's angry, which results in angry sex, which results in bruises. Lots of them. Her arms, her hips, her back, anywhere's fair game when Santana's pissed. It took three weeks for her to heal after Quinn took Santana's place in the Cheerios… but she loves it. The times when Santana hurts her are the only times when she stays and holds her, whispering sweet nothings. And every time, Brittany's convinced that she really does love her, that she really is sorry, that things really will change after today. But they never do, and she always goes and buys another bottle of cover-up.

_Gave you all I had  
And you tossed it in the trash  
You tossed it in the trash, yes you did  
To give me all your love is all I ever asked  
Cause what you don't understand is_

"Magic comb? _Magic comb? _How old does he think you are, 6?" Santana paces back and forth, throwing her hands in the air for emphasis. "Why the fuck are you even going out with him? He compared my boobs to ostrich eggs, B. Ostrich. Eggs. How is he supposed to respect and love you if he can't even be nice to your best friend?" She flops down on the bed. "Break up with him."

"He's nice to me."

"So? How many times have you fucked him?"

"... 5?"

"Exactly. Break up with him."

"He loves me more than you do." The words spill out of her before she realizes what's happening. "You don't care about me at all. The only way I'd break up with him is if you can love me more."

Santana sits there, stunned. She opens her mouth to speak, then closes it. Brittany thinks she sees her wipe away a tear before she bolts from her room… but then she realizes that she'd never cry over her.

_I'd catch a grenade for ya  
Throw my hand on a blade for ya  
I'd jump in front of a train for ya  
You know I'd do anything for ya_

"Do you have any food? I'm staaaaaaaaaaarving."  
"Yep, here."

She didn't really want lunch that day, anyways.

"B, could you run to my locker and grab my jacket?"  
"Sure."

Who cares if she gets a detention for being late to class? It's not like she had anything better to do after school.

"Do you have a condom? Puck wants me to meet him in the choir room but he always 'forgets' to bring one."  
"There's some in my bag, I think."

She pretends that it doesn't kill her to watch Santana strut off.

"Can you come over? I'm feeling really lonely…"  
"I'll be there in 5."

She tries not to think about how she'll feel the next morning. Or the ticket she gets for going 60 in a 25 zone.

"Hey, San, you wanna maybe hang out this weekend?"  
"Sorry, me and Finn are gonna… well, you know."

Did she really expect anything different?

_Oh, oh  
I would go through all this pain,  
Take a bullet straight through my brain,  
Yes, I would die for ya baby-  
But you won't do the same_

Me: hhhheeeeEEEeEeEyyyy

Santana: ... b r u drunk?

Me: noooooooooooooo i just had like 5 shots i think lol

Santana: ur drunk. where r u?

Me: NARNIAAAAAA

Santana: no srsly b where r u

Santana: b txt me back

Santana: BRITTANY

5 Missed Calls: Santana

Me: Oh sry forgot i was txting u

Santana: WTF WHAT WERE U DOING INSTEAD?

Santana: AND WHERE R U?

Me: im just at homes drinking with my duck

Santana: oh. put the bottle away, b.

Me: but i need to forgot!

Santana: forget what?

Me: how much i love u. id like die 4 u and shit

Me: but u dont care so nvmnd

Santana: … i do care, b.

Me: u say u do but u dont act like u do ho w cum u wuldnt sing w/me in glee

Me: nd how cum u wont go out w/me if u say u love me isnt that what ppl do when they love eachother

Santana: its hard 2 explain. just put the bottle down.

Me: see u wont even talk 2 me anyanymore

Santana: arent we talking right now?

Me: yeah but u arent saying anything

Me: nd i love u

Me: i love u alot santana

Santana: wheres artie? why isnt he taking care of u?

Me: he broke up w/me b/c he dosnt love me eitheeeeeeeeeeeeer

Santana: ill b there in 5.

Santana: give the bottle 2 stanley.

Me: hes a duck.

Santana: um… ducks r really good w/bottles.

Me: oh. ok xoxo ilu

Me: alot

Santana: im on my way.

_If my body was on fire,  
Ooh, you'd watch me burn down in flames  
You said you loved me. you're a liar  
Cause you never, ever, ever did baby..._

"His body is so fine, you wouldn't believe!" she squeals.  
Brittany holds the phone away from her ear a little. "So you guys had a good date?"

"I can not believe I didn't go out with Sam sooner! Plus, Quinn's _totally_ pissed that I stole her guy, which means she'll be distracted, which means I can finally knock Juno off the top of the pyramid!"

"So was it worth missing our date?" She bites at the corner of her thumb.

"… what date?"

"When you came over last Tuesday and I was drunk you said we'd hang out on Friday. And I asked you if you were sure and you said, 'Yes, of course. I love you, B.' and then I kissed you and then you ripped my shirt off and then – "

"Okay, okay. I remember that part. But, ummm… that wasn't a date."

"Then what was it? Because the whole asking me out and saying you love me and then fucking me thing kind of made it sound like a date."

"Well… uhhh… it wasn't. Besides, you know how important my date with Sam was!"

"More important than me?"

The line goes silent, and then she hears the dial tone.

_But darling I'll still catch a grenade for ya  
Throw my hand on a blade for ya  
I'd jump in front of a train for ya  
You know I'd do anything for ya_

She's crying as she writes the note.

_Dear Mom and Dad,_

_I'm sorry I had to do this to you guys. I love you. And can you tell Stanley that I'm sorry, too? He'll act like he can't hear you but I know he's listening anyways. And I want you to give all my stuff to that homeless shelter Mr. Schue gave the toys to. Especially Stanley._

_Love Forever,  
Brittany  
_

And then the hard one.

_Dear Santana,_

_ You're probably with Puck right now. Or Sam. Or Finn. Or someone. But I guess the point is that you aren't with me. And that really sucks sometimes. Okay, all the time. I love you. And I wanted to spend my whole life with you. Really, I did. I always thought we'd grow old together and maybe adopt some ducks and we'd be so happy. We would have been so happy together, San… I just wanted you to be happy. Even if that wasn't with me. If you were happy I would have been happy, too. But you aren't happy. And I love you so much that it hurts, and lately it just hurts too much. So maybe we'll both be happier this way. I'm so, so sorry Santana._

_xoxo,  
Brittany_

_Oh, oh  
I would go through all this pain,  
Take a bullet straight through my brain,  
Yes, I would die for ya baby;  
But you won't do the same.  
No, you won't do the same,  
You wouldn't do the same,  
Ooh, you'll never do the same,  
No, no, no, no_

She stares at the gun in her hands.

She checks her phone one last time.

"Missed Alerts Empty"

She checks again.

"Missed Alerts Empty"

Third time's the charm?

"Missed Alerts Empty"

Of course there's nothing. She's with Sam. Sam who is everything she isn't and everything she'll never get to be because she's just her and not enough.

She's terrified as she puts the barrel against the side of her head.

_What if this works?_

_What if it doesn't?_

She squeezes her eyes shut, whispers, "Goodbye," and pulls the trigger.

* * *

Reviews would make me almost as happy as owning Bruno Mars...


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